Contagion
by scifiromance
Summary: While guiding Voyager through a dangerous anomaly, the away team on the Delta Flyer come across a distress signal which leads them into a new danger none of them could be prepared for... C/7.
1. Chapter 1

**A/n: Hi everyone! I decided to start this new fic as a reward to myself for finishing "Perspectives" and "A Raven's Ghost", the idea has been bouncing around in my head for a while. It's set in series 7, somewhere between the episodes "Natural Law" and "Homestead". I hope you all like it. :)**

Captain Kathryn Janeway unconsciously bit her lip as she stared pensively out of her Ready Room window. In a way, the scene outside was breathtaking, the swirling ionised particle clouds splattered the black canvas of normal space like random brushes of colour applied by a whimsical artist, but behind the beauty lurked extreme danger. Spacial Anomaly 6420, as Seven had defined it during the two hour officers' briefing which had just ended, was the remnants of a nebula that had been probably degrading then collapsing for the past two centuries or more. Now all that lingered was network of densely packed plasma storms held together by a treacherous gravitational field which was so strong Voyager was struggling to hold itself in one piece even while idling at a ¼ impulse, the closest they could get warp without risking a mortal hull breech. If they didn't find a way through the worst of this anomaly, Voyager faced not reaching the other side for three months or more, with untold levels of damage…

She couldn't stop a bitter sigh from leaving her lips as the blaring glare of the facts hit her again, but quickly pulled herself together with the stubbornness that had kept her on the path home through so many obstacles over the years. The Borg Collective, the Hirogen, the Kazon, the Viidians, if she took the time she could list all the threats they'd faced, vividly recall every decision she'd had to make, but for now she had to focus on the present and the plan her crew had presented her with to push Voyager past another trial. The trill of the doorbell broke through her thoughts and she abruptly stepped away from the window, turning her back on the danger to put a strong front on for whoever saw her. "Enter!" she called, tiredness making her voice more of a bark.

"Captain." Chakotay greeted politely as he stepped purposefully inside, trying to ignore how the floor was quivering under his feet. Even under Tom's skilled control, they were so near the gravitational field that the ship was like a wild animal straining against a rope, ready to flee but unable to. He grimaced as his eyes caught the full view of the phenomenon from the window. Even if they were able to move, there weren't many options about where to go other than deeper inside. He could see, from the fresh lines creasing the Captain's face, that the same thought had occurred to her too often, but he could also tell that she'd come resolutely to her decision. Over his almost seven years of trying to work with her with as harmoniously as possible given their frequently different outlooks, he'd learned to know when her face was tortured by indecision or covered by the stony mask of implacable determination. Today, he noted the latter, although he wasn't sure whether to feel relieved or apprehensive. "So, you've reached a verdict?" he asked quietly.

Janeway took a deep breath to brace herself. "Yes, using the Delta Flyer to guide us through the anomaly is the best option we have." She couldn't stop herself from raising a surprised eyebrow as Chakotay barely paused before nodding. "Aren't you going to repeat your reminder that we could go around this?" she asked archly.

Chakotay breathed a sigh, "No." What would be the point? He wryly added silently. "The plan that Seven, B'Elanna and Harry came up with is a good one and I wasn't dismissing it before, I just asked you to think it over and you obviously have."

The Captain flashed him a hint of a satisfied smile. "You're right about that." She agreed, ushering him closer and pointing outside. "If the calculations are right, then the smaller mass of the Flyer shouldn't attract the gravitational field or the plasma storms nearly as much as Voyager…"

"So we can use it to plot a route of least resistance for Voyager to follow." Chakotay finished with a flicker of a dry smile, "I was listening at the briefing too you know."

Janeway chuckled before looking at him more seriously, "Are you willing to pilot the Delta Flyer and head the away team?"

"Yes." Chakotay answered without hesitation. "You need Tom here to get Voyager through this, although I doubt he'll be too happy about someone else piloting the Flyer." He and Janeway shared a knowing look, picturing Tom's reaction at the thought of his creation in the hands of someone else. "I think Seven should be part of the away team, the way she and B'Elanna explained it someone qualified will have to send detailed telemetry back to Voyager…"

Janeway shot him a curious look, "Seven?"

Her slightly odd tone made Chakotay feel awkward, though he wasn't sure why exactly. "Yes, this was her idea after all. I'd feel more comfortable if…"

"Don't worry; I was going to suggest that Seven accompany you myself." Janeway assured him quickly, "I was just a little surprised that you would _ask _for her, that's all."

Chakotay's brow furrowed deeply, her words rankling. "Captain, I can assure you that it's been years since Seven of Nine hasn't had my complete trust, especially for something as vital as this mission."

Janeway patted his arm. "I wasn't judging either of you Chakotay. I'm sure Seven would be very happy to hear such a vote of confidence from you." She told him warmly, smiling slightly. "The two of you worked very well together on that…unintentional first contact with the Ventu, I'm certain you will again."

"We will." Chakotay replied with a firm nod before moving back to the issue at hand. "We'll need at least one other person in the Flyer. Harry could cope with…"

The Captain shook her head. "No, Harry needs to stay here to help interpret the telemetry coming from the Flyer. You need an engineer who can keep the Flyer in the air and help Seven if need be."

Chakotay quickly ran through the crew in his mind but couldn't choose anyone. B'Elanna's pregnancy ruled her out and was part of the reason why he had volunteered to go on this mission in Tom's place; the expectant father didn't need to be taking anymore risks than were absolutely necessary. He eventually shrugged, glancing at Janeway, "Any suggestions?"

"Hmm…" The Captain pondered aloud before snapping her fingers decisively, "What about Lieutenant Callahan? He specialises in communication engineering and did Astrophysics at the Academy too so he'll definitely be able to assist Seven should she need it."

"Callahan…" Chakotay paused thoughtfully, he didn't know the man well, he wasn't a Maquis and unlike with many of the Starfleet crewmembers Chakotay had little need to interact with him, being an engineer meant he was rarely on the Bridge and Chakotay had never been called on to discipline him, which he supposed could only be a good thing. "I've never really worked with him Captain, but I know that B'Elanna thinks a lot of his abilities. I'd be happy to have him on the Flyer." He told Janeway honestly.

"Good." Janeway replied with a satisfied nod, "The three of you will leave tomorrow then. I presume you want to inform them yourself?"

Chakotay mirrored her nod, "Yes please Captain, I'll get everything organised."

The Captain smirked slightly as she turned back to her desk and Chakotay headed for the door. "I'd expect nothing less."

* * *

Chakotay exhaled heavily as he left the Captain's Ready Room, relieved, as he glanced over at the grim outlook presented by the Bridge's viewscreen, that Janeway had come to a decision. He might not have felt entirely at ease with the safety of the plan, but that wasn't unusual on board Voyager, the Captain was always lecturing about how "risks absolutely had to be taken" if they were going to get home and that journey was what he'd signed up for when he'd agreed to merge both crews. His silent doubts were automatically pushed to the back of his mind as he walked across the Bridge, giving a couple of his crewmates a reassuring smile when he caught their questioning glances before entering the turbolift. As he was carried swiftly down through the decks en route to Astrometrics, he hailed Callahan on his comm. badge and filled him in about their new mission. It occurred to him, after the brief conversation was over, that he could have also called Seven but he reasoned that she was much easier to speak to in person than through the comm., her voice alone was never enough to read her reactions.

He sighed thoughtfully as he neared the door to Astrometrics, the situation where Seven had come on board was similar to the one they found themselves in now, a dangerous part of space which could only be traversed with intense personal risk to them all. He'd fought the Captain then, on every aspect of that plan, and as the Captain delighted in reminding him with every small step the former drone took forward, it had happily worked out in their favour. He just had to hope this situation would end the same way. Recently, it had become increasingly apparent to him that he'd been proved wrong in many things where Seven of Nine was concerned. He'd never blamed her for the atrocities she'd committed as a drone, he'd learned enough of her ordeal to know that she herself was one of their biggest victims, but for years he'd held her at a distance. In fact, apart from some moments of advice or comfort, so unexpected the memories of the encounters were imprinted permanently in his mind, they'd barely interacted at all. The Captain, as much as her throwaway comments had irked him, was right in that their shared experience with the Ventu had changed something between them. If he were honest with himself, it had been his outlook that had been altered, Seven had probably always been a humane person, even relatable to if you were to try to reach her, he'd just never bothered to look before. Well, he didn't intend to ignore her anymore, he knew now that if he did he'd be missing out.

She was standing, as per usual, in front of Astrometrics' main console, so absorbed in what she was doing that she didn't react when the door behind her swished gently open. He had to clear his throat to gain her attention, "Seven?"

Seven jumped at the sound of the voice behind her, the mental calculations she'd been doing immediately wiped clean from her brain as she recognised the speaker. "Commander!" she exclaimed, cringing at her own volume as she spun around to be met with his dark eyes twinkling warmly at her in amusement.

"I'm sorry…" Chakotay chuckled in embarrassment, feeling guilty for distracting her. "I didn't mean to startle you."

Seven's gaze flitted briefly up to his face again before moving contritely downwards as she felt her body tense and her face heat up. "I should've been more alert." She replied, quickly dismissing the apology. She didn't notice the small smile pulling at Chakotay's lips in reply to that, too occupied with berating herself. She certainly _should_ be able to anticipate his presence by now and compose herself accordingly; he'd been making increasingly frequent trips to Astrometrics in recent weeks after all. At first she'd assumed that he'd been discreetly checking up on her mental state after she'd confided in him about the anxiety and guilt she felt over how they'd left the Ventu, but that alone didn't account for how often he'd abandoned his usual routine to visit Astrometrics, not even showing much interest in her data reports when he got there, previously collecting them had been his only reason for coming to her lab at all. She'd eventually decided not to analyse his possible reasons, she'd most likely misinterpret them and that would only pile more anxiety on her. "Do you require something from me Commander?" she queried politely when he made no attempt to move the conversation forward.

"I _require_ you to prepare for the away mission you proposed at the briefing this morning, the Captain's given the plan the go ahead." Chakotay told her, "We leave on the Delta Flyer first thing tomorrow."

"We?" Seven echoed, her brows furrowing when he nodded, "I thought Lieutenant Paris and Ensign Kim would accompany me…"

"The Captain and I thought Tom had better stay here, B'Elanna is so close to her due date and with the turbulence you said Voyager will face inside the anomaly, the best pilot will need to be at the helm." Chakotay explained, "I'll be in charge of the mission and piloting the Flyer." He saw panic shoot across Seven's striking features for an instant and added in mock seriousness, "I think I'll be fine Seven, unless you can read any more planetary shields for me to crash into."

His self-deprecating tone caught Seven off guard and a laugh escaped her throat before she could stifle it, leaving her blushing furiously, deeply ashamed of her rudeness and lack of control. "I…meant no disrespect Commander…"

Chakotay reached out and touched her shoulder, pointedly ignoring the heat that flooded his body at the exotic sight of Seven blushing. "It was a joke Seven, I'd be more offended if you _didn't _laugh, okay?" he told her good-humouredly, trying to reassure her as clearly as he could.

Seven bobbed her head hurriedly, "I understand Commander." She murmured before stepping stiffly back from him, her expression impassive again. "Is Ensign Kim still accompanying us?" she asked.

Chakotay shook his head regretfully, knowing that Seven would've been most comfortable working with someone familiar like Harry. "No, the Captain thought he should be here to interpret the information we send back."

"A prudent decision." Seven remarked, her tone neutral. "Then who is joining us on the Delta Flyer?"

"The Captain suggested Eric Callahan and he's agreed." Chakotay informed her.

Seven felt her stomach sink traitorously. "Lieutenant Callahan from Beta shift in Engineering?" she asked weakly, though she knew there was no other man with that name on board.

"That's him." Chakotay confirmed, peering at her in concern when he read pensiveness in her face. "Are you okay to work with him?" he asked suspiciously.

Seven swallowed slightly as she considered the question. In all honestly, she _wasn't_ entirely comfortable to work with that particular Lieutenant. It wasn't that they'd ever had a confrontation, he'd never disobeyed one of her orders if she were ever in Engineering with him, but she was well aware of his mistrust of her. She was used to hearing insulting comments behind her back, few crewmembers took her enhanced hearing into account when gossiping, and thankfully the instances had become less common over the years as the crew became accustomed to her presence, but Lieutenant Callahan remained a persistent offender, the slurs "Borg Bitch" or "Ice Queen" leaving his lips often enough to give Seven cause to avoid him. To ruin the Captain's plans for the sake of such an inconsequential reason seemed petty to her now however, Callahan had after all agreed to work with her, so she met Chakotay's searching gaze calmly, "Of course Commander, I am merely unfamiliar with his capabilities."

Chakotay smiled in relief, "You'll probably like him, he's an efficient worker by all accounts."

Seven nodded firmly, "Then the mission should progress as planned."

* * *

"There." The Doctor declared as he injected a hypospray into Seven's neck, "You're up to date on all your away mission inoculations and all of your implants are in proper alignment."

Seven took that as permission to depart and started to slide off the biobed, "Thank you Doctor…"

The Doctor's hand snapped out and grabbed her arm to hold her back, his grip surprisingly strong for a hologram. "We have other things to discuss before I'll sign you off as fit for this particular away mission."

Seven raised her eyebrows at him uneasily, "Doctor?"

The Doctor sighed heavily, "I won't be comfortable with you going unless you agree to have your emotional failsafe removed. As I explained during your last maintenance check, I think I've figured out how to do it in a single procedure. If I do it right now you can regenerate tonight and hopefully still be fine for leaving in the morning…"

"Hopefully?" Seven echoed sharply, glaring at him intensely, "You know I have to go! You wouldn't be being so disruptive if the Commander wasn't also going. I assure you that your concerns are unnecessary…"

The Doctor snorted bitterly, "Seven, you have to acknowledge at some point that it was your developing feelings for him that triggered the failsafe!" He exclaimed in exasperation before his tone softened, "It's dangerous for you to be around him too much…"

"I have been able to control my emotions sufficiently enough in the past weeks and I have no intention to stop doing so." Seven informed him coldly, crossing her arms defensively over her chest, "My failsafe wasn't a problem on Ledosia and the two of us were more intimate then than we ever will be again…" She blushed as the Doctor's own eyebrows rose at the word "intimate" and bit down hard on her lip.

"Well, I have a feeling you were both walking along a pretty thin line there if the mission reports and ship's gossip are anything to go by…" The Doctor muttered under his breath, causing Seven to glower at him in warning. "Look, maybe you will be fine, but you will be practically alone with him on the Delta Flyer, in a high-adrenaline situation, for probably a week or more. Are you really going to tell me you're going to be completely immune to that?" He could see doubt forming like storm clouds in her blue eyes and pounced on it, "Remember that if your failsafe _does_ trigger, I won't be there to help you. You'd be risking your life for the sake of Borg pride and I'm not willing to let you do that any more than you are already."

Seven flinched as the truth of his words hit home and the memory of her reaction to Chakotay flooded her again, racing heart, blood rushing through her ears… She had to admit that he continued to affect her in that disastrous way that had nearly killed her on the holodeck, and as much as she wanted to believe she could control herself as she had since, the thought of an irrelevant human impulse causing her death on the Delta Flyer, during an away mission where Voyager's survival may be dependant on her, chilled her blood enough to numb her shame and pride. "Proceed." She whispered through gritted teeth, slumping resentfully down onto the biobed.

The Doctor's only reply was to squeeze her arm supportively and exhale in relief as he moved away to prepare. Despite the jealousy that prickled him at the thought of Seven's feelings for Chakotay, but if the attraction was powerful enough to drag her to her senses then he could only be grateful for it as her Doctor and friend. Now he just had to hope that the away mission would go smoothly and she could return quickly to enjoy her emotional freedom.

**A/n: PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE REVIEW! :D It took me all weekend to finish this chapter; I think it might be my longest one ever. I hope you want to read more. :)**


	2. Chapter 2

Seven managed to awkwardly brace herself against her console as the Delta Flyer swerved swiftly away from the nebula's recurring volleys of charged ions; enough to tear through a shield like paper if it hit a weak spot, but so far Commander Chakotay's flying had been exemplary, considering the circumstances. Still, Seven couldn't stop herself from grimacing as the vessel shuddered from the effort of the manoeuvre, the vibrations travelling up her limbs to her head. The sharp, hammering pain in her skull she'd initially endured after being brought round from the procedure on her cortical node had thankfully been soothed by a full regeneration cycle, but a nagging ache still stubbornly lingered and it certainly wasn't helped by this turbulent flight.

Chakotay caught her split second grimace out of the corner of his eye as he lifted his head briefly from the controls. "Sorry about that Seven." He muttered apologetically, rubbing his knee where it had slammed into his own console.

"The ship is as yet undamaged and as am I." She reassured him quickly, her piercing eyes meeting his firmly to press the point before she glanced hurriedly down at the data before her, "We should be in an area of relative calm for the next quarter of a light-year."

Chakotay winced a little as he looked down at his own navigational data, "Relatively calm, yeah, that's one description." He replied, flashing her a sheepish smile. Seven felt her lips trying to nervously return the gesture, but quickly had to settle for just quirking her eyebrows in response. Chakotay seemed satisfied enough though, his own smile widening a little in encouragement before he turned to Callahan, sitting at his console at the very back of the cabin. "Is the telemetry still transmitting smoothly to Voyager Lieutenant?"

"Yes sir." Callahan replied perfunctorily before allowing himself to turn his attention away from his console for a moment to face his commanding officer, "They should be receiving one hundred percent of the data at the moment, but I might not be able to guarantee that throughout, especially if we want to keep a comm. link open as well."

Chakotay sucked in a breath, well, it was maybe a bit too much to ask for the luck they'd been riding on so far to last forever, they had just moved beyond the fringes of the nebula after all. "Concentrate on keeping the data link at full capacity and just maintain a comm. link for a long as you can." He ordered decisively, biting back a sigh and keeping his face upbeat.

"Of course, I'll transfer more power to the data link…" Callahan began to answer, when, as if on cue, the comm. line coughed into life with a sickly splutter.

"Voya…ger to Delta Flyer…" Captain Janeway's voice echoed down the line, her words often split into single syllables by the straining comm. line's crackle as it fought interference. "Progress…report…"

"Yes Captain, although I hope you can hear us better from your end than we're getting you." Chakotay answered calmly, "Everything seems to be going to plan so far."

"Yes." Seven interjected, "I am analysing interpreting a great deal of useful data, I hope you are receiving it Captain?"

"We are." Janeway replied, her voice suddenly sharpened with new clarity, "Harry and Icheb have managed to clear up the line for now, although they tell me it won't last long."

"They're right Captain." Callahan agreed, "We're in a quieter pocket of the nebula right now but we're about to go deeper. As I told the Commander, this might have to be our last audio comm. conversation."

"Do what you think is best Lieutenant." The Captain assured him, "We'll not attempt to hail you again unless it's an emergency, the data you send should be enough contact to reassure us."

"You won't start to follow us until we're at the halfway point?" Chakotay asked seriously. Before they'd left Voyager, he'd been sure to get a concession from the always impatient Janeway that they wouldn't try to follow them too soon. After all, his away team were taking the brunt of the risk so that Voyager herself didn't have to.

"No Chakotay, we won't." The Captain confirmed firmly, even as her soft laugh rippled down the comm. line, "Although Tom's gnawing at the bit to get going, I think he's still jealous that you're getting to be the pioneer this time."

"Well, tell him to count himself lucky…" Chakotay started to reply, his tone light-hearted but his sentiment serious, when his focus was diverted by a warning flash of light in the swirling purplish clouds surrounding them and blocking out the twinkling light of the stars.

Seven saw it too. "Chakotay, a plasma…"

"I see it." Chakotay muttered under his breath as he took the quivering flight controls in hand and commanded the Delta Flyer to lurch sideways as the flame of superheated plasma struck where they had just been. "Captain, I think…"

"I know." The Captain interrupted, her voice again almost unrecognisable through the thick static. "Good…Luck…safe…" The comm. line then cut out altogether, Callahan's console hissing as the comm. circuits overloaded.

"That's it." Callahan reported quietly, "We've lost the comm. link."

Chakotay tried to suppress a shudder and saw Seven's jaw tighten despite her otherwise stoic expression. Their last tangible connection to Voyager had snapped like a string pulled too taut and they all felt the sudden inescapable sense of isolation at that moment. Chakotay attempted to shrug off the unease he felt, keeping his manner professional as he addressed Callahan again, "Do you still have the data link?"

"Yes sir, it's completely intact." Callahan confirmed shakily, his whole body swaying with the Flyer as Chakotay continued to push through the turbulence.

Seven peered at him in concern, unsettled. Slowly she stood up and made her way back to Callahan's console, trying to ignore how he stiffened defensively at her approach. "He's right Commander." She said as she studied the data over Callahan's shoulder. "We are still successfully transmitting over 95% of the telemetry we're recording back to Voyager."

Chakotay nodded to her in acknowledgement, "Let's try to keep it that way and hope there's nothing vital in that 5%."

Although he hadn't really expected a reply to that, Seven of course had already considered that concern. "I categorise the data by importance as part of my analysis Commander, what is most vital for Voyager's safe passage is on the most secure part of the link."

She was rewarded for her foresight, which Chakotay realised he never should have doubted, with a relieved smile. "That's certainly impressive Seven."

Seven felt her heart thump more strongly in her chest at the genuine warmth in his voice but the brief, illicit, pleasure she got from hearing it was ruined by the mutterings she heard from Callahan beside her, "The Doctor once said the assimilation process was impressive too…"

Her lip curling in was the only sign of the hurt that needled her for an instant before she forced herself to dismiss it. A distraction was soon provided by a recurrence of the plasma flare up causing her to focus on maintaining her balance but as she did so she saw Callahan's complexion turn greenish. "Are you suffering from space sickness Lieutenant?" she asked concernedly.

Callahan coloured in embarrassment, answering her question before he retorted, "I'm working aren't I?" he snapped irritably, before looking to Chakotay in shame, "I'm sorry sir, it's just mild. I can work through it…"

"It's nothing to be ashamed of Lieutenant, especially in these conditions." Chakotay assured him calmly, "I felt it a bit ill myself when we flew in here at first. As for your work, you've been doing well so far."

"Thank you." Callahan replied graciously before turning back to the console, although Chakotay thought he saw his eyes narrow at Seven in hostility as he turned away. If Seven noticed it, she didn't react, moving back to her console with an innate grace which seemed to allow her feet to surf on the rolling floor of the cabin, she even managed to walk in a straight line. Chakotay sighed as he tore his gaze away from her. He knew Seven well enough now that her question to Callahan had been intended to be sympathetic, but he also realised that for people unaccustomed to Seven's mannerisms and way of speaking the question would have sounded abrupt, even accusatory. Callahan already seemed easily perturbed by Seven and Chakotay could now read between the lines of her halting acceptance of Callahan's acceptance of this mission, she'd known he didn't like her. Chakotay couldn't help but wish she'd just been entirely honest with him, it would have smoothed over this mission considerably.

Seven's voice interrupted his thoughts, "Commander, I believe you should change the heading by 0.2 points, the route should be easier."

"Thanks Seven." He agreed, doing as she recommended before glancing back to look at her. "You look a little pale yourself Seven." He commented softly, brows creasing in worry as she bit her lip pensively.

Seven blanched, unprepared for questions about her health, although she knew perfectly well he knew nothing about the failsafe. "Considering the fact that I have rarely been exposed to sunlight, and my Northern European heritage, I believe I am naturally pale-skinned Commander." She mumbled rapidly, cringing at how awkward her deflection sounded even to her own under socialised ears.

Chakotay patiently let her finish, a knowing smile pulling at the ends of his mouth. "That's probably true, but I was really asking if you felt okay."

"I am functional." Seven replied sharply, guilt filling her as he flinched at her tone. She was an expert at disguising her thoughts and feelings but lying in the face of a direct question had never come naturally to her, deception was unknown in the Collective and she still found it repellent. "The Doctor had to perform a minor procedure on me last night, I may still be experiencing some mild after-effects, but…"

Chakotay stared at her in disbelief, "You had surgery last night?" he asked, belatedly realising how loud his voice sounded, "You should've…"

"It has no bearing on my work Commander." Seven cut in resolutely before her expression softened as her lowered eyes unintentionally met his worried ones, "Do you really think the Doctor would have allowed me to leave Voyager if I were ill or malfunctioning?"

Chakotay exhaled through clenched teeth, "No, he wouldn't have." He admitted before a dry laugh left his throat, "He would have been yelling down the comm. line for me to bring you back."

"True." Seven agreed quietly, her racing heart gradually slowing as she sensed she'd avoided raising his suspicions.

Chakotay though, wasn't quite finished and regarded her seriously, "If anything like that happens again tell me, whether it disrupts an away mission or not, understood?"

"Understood Commander." Seven echoed, hoping he didn't detect the waver in her voice as he turned away. She choked back a sigh as her hands clenched tightly around her console. In the hours since the away mission had began she'd realised that the Doctor's judgement had been correct, she'd felt enough moments of heightened emotion to put herself in jeopardy, not that she'd ever admit that to him, or show that the emotions were even there. Even though the weight of a death threat had been lifted from her shoulders, she felt that nothing had really changed.

* * *

Three full days passed in the same fashion, hours of monotony injected with moments of adrenaline and terror. The nebula only enclosed them tighter, until the windows and viewscreens were blotted out by the sea of its warped colours. Chakotay, although Callahan relieved him every few hours so that he could sleep in snatches, had rarely felt so constantly on edge than he had during these few days, any mistake he made could kill them and doom Voyager, it was almost like being a Maquis again. What kept him going was the thought that they would soon be halfway through, but it also filled with anxiety for Voyager, since their journey would only be just beginning at that point. He was mulling all this through his head when he looked into the viewsceen and saw something unbelievable, blinking as he tried to clear the mirage from his eyes. "Seven, Callahan, do you see what I see?"

"Yeah…" Callahan began awestruck, "Normal space, but we can't possibly be out of the nebula…"

Seven sighed as she followed the men's gazes, they were transfixed on a patch of clear space, star sprinkled and inky black, among the tumultuous clouds of the nebula like an island in an unending sea. What really drew her attention through, was the space station is the middle of it, shaped like a silver needle encircled by rings. "We're still within the nebula, probably in the centre. What we're seeing is not normal space as you would define it, it's been constructed."

"Constructed?" Chakotay echoed disbelievingly, although he saw the evidence in front of his eyes, "Are you saying someone was able to hold back the nebula, create normal space inside it?"

"Precisely." Seven answered, "The space station has all the indications for Species 4891's presence here, their settlements are spread throughout this sector."

Callahan stared at her, "If you knew that such technology existed, why are we doing this?" he asked Seven accusingly.

"Lieutenant, that's out of line…" Chakotay rebuked sharply, eyes flashing in warning.

Seven though, seemed less offended by the remark than Chakotay was. "Knowing of technology and being able to execute it are two different things." Seven reminded Callahan coolly, "Voyager doesn't have the resources to build such technology."

"What if these people helped us? What could we do with this technology?" Chakotay questioned her eagerly.

Seven paused thoughtfully as she tried to explain it, "In essence, the shield technology they possess allows them to create a "bubble" of normal space around a vessel, or in this case a space station."

"So if we had this shield Voyager could pass through this nebula with no trouble?" Callahan asked, enthusiasm finally entering his tone.

Seven gave a cautious nod, "In theory, yes."

Chakotay took Seven's caution into account as he carefully phrased his next question. "Would these people be willing to help us?"

"I believe so…" Seven answered slowly, "They are a relatively peaceful species, similar to humans in physiology and outlook. I believe there have been some internal conflicts but they have a tradition of being friendly to other species."

Chakotay let the hopeful smile he'd been restraining break across his face. "Then I don't see why we shouldn't try to be friendly too."

"We could do with a break in normal space to conduct repairs too Commander." Callahan added.

Chakotay nodded in acknowledgement. "Scan the station and send out the standard greeting." A few tense minutes passed before saw a frown cross Seven's face. "What is it?"

"There has been no response to our hail and the station is emitting the minimum power emissions possible." Seven reported, her tone slightly bemused.

"Has the station been abandoned?" Callahan suggested, his disappointment obvious.

Seven shook her head, "No, I'm reading at least ninety lifesigns, all faint, although that could be because of the nebula interfering with our scans."

"Or they could be in distress." Chakotay said heavily, glancing out at the station, a beacon of hope, before making a decision. "If that's the case, we have to help them."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I hope you're still interested and thanks so much for all the support so far. :)**


	3. Chapter 3

Seven of Nine was already in the process of activating her tricorder before the visual static of the transporter had completely dispersed, but as she heard the slight gasps of her two colleagues quicken behind her, she glanced up from her scans to study them. Chakotay's stance was straight backed and calm, but she could see his heavy breathing clouding over the visor of his space suit, his jaw clenched. Callahan looked worse, even hidden under the white bulk of his suit she could see his knees quivering, beads of sweat forming on his brow. "You are suffering from apprehension?" she queried, disturbed herself at how her voice echoed around the almost unnaturally silent space.

"And you aren't?" Chakotay asked pointedly, softening the critical tone with a single dry chuckle as he met her gaze. She looked just as tense as either himself or Callahan, her tricorder held out warily, legs slightly splayed in preparation to obey her hair trigger fight or flight complex.

"Apprehension is irrelevant." Seven tersely declared, but due to the microphone in her helmet amplifying her tiny sigh, her stoicism was betrayed as her keen eyes suspiciously scanned their surroundings. Irked by Chakotay's knowing twitch of an eyebrow, she reluctantly admitted, "Although, I will concede that our present surroundings are somewhat…disconcerting."

"Disconcerting?" Callahan echoed sceptically as he awkwardly twisted his head around in his helmet to peer worriedly around him. They had transported directly into one of the station's main corridors, connecting what Seven said was the main command area in the centre, similar to Voyager's Bridge, and the ring deck which contained the station's other vital components, such as science labs and Engineering. By rights, Callahan imagined, this should have been a thriving thoroughfare, pulsing with life, but what was so "disconcerting" was that the opposite was true. If a piece of technology could ever be described as dead, then this place deserved the title. Apart from an emergency light strip on the floor, and even that was struggling to flicker on for more than a few seconds at a time, the corridor was pitch black, illuminated only by the torches in their three space suits. The silver metal which served as cladding for the curved walls had obviously once been sleek and impressive, but now dirt smeared every surface and Callahan suspected that if Delta Quadrant spiders could survive here, he'd find cobwebs clinging to every corner. Still however, the immense power once held by this station was obvious, computer access points sprawled over nearly every wall, the buttons glittering a warning when a light was shone on them. Something about this place, apparently abandoned but as large and foreboding as a sleeping tiger, made Callahan's stomach twist and he suddenly realised why. "It's like the Caretaker's array; we thought that was empty but…"

"There's no point in comparing the two Lieutenant, we're on a peaceful mission here, and if the inhabitants don't want us here we'll leave." Chakotay cut in sharply before sighing heavily as Callahan's accurate description made him shudder, overwhelmed for an instant by bad memories. "It did make me remember the array at first too though." He conceded, shooting Callahan an understanding look.

"There are some similarities, but they are minor." Seven said dismissively, "I can assure you that Species 4891, although highly advanced in many ways, are as unlike the Caretaker as any of us. The station itself poses no threat, it merely appears oddly neglected."

Callahan stepped angrily towards her, riled by her nonchalance, "How would you know what we faced with the Caretaker?" he questioned accusingly, "You weren't even there!"

Seven was stung and confused by the vitriol in his voice. She knew that many crewmembers resented the fact she had so much apparent influence on board Voyager considering the fact that she had never experienced the terrible impact of the Caretaker's intervention and those first years of the crew forced to muddle together and bond, but she'd never thought she'd be accused of not empathising with being wrenched away from all someone knew, she had after all been through assimilation and then being severed from the Collective, both instances equally traumatic. "I realise that, but I don't see…"

"There's nothing to see." Chakotay intervened firmly, his eyes narrowing as he looked between Seven and Callahan. "I realise we're under strain, having been stuck in the Delta Flyer for days and then discovering this strange situation, but that's no reason to drag up the past." He paused for breath as his eyes swept over the lifeless scene in front of them, "Right now we need to find out what's going on here, understood?" He waited until they both had replied with suitably chastised nods before speaking again in his professional First Officer tone he'd perfected over the years, "What's the verdict so far Seven?" He gestured down at his bulky suit, "Do we still need these?"

"The gravity level is consistent with Federation levels and the oxygen nitrogen atmosphere is compatible with human physiology…" Seven began, reeling off the data from her tricorder and visibly calming down, "As far as I can assume at the moment, we are safe here."

Chakotay took that as a cue to raise the visor on his helmet and was immediately hit by the staleness of the air around him; his nostrils were filled with the distinctive scent of decay, though from where he couldn't be sure. "Okay, we can take our helmets off but we'll keep the rest of it on, we don't know what potential hazards are here. It certainly doesn't seem like they've kept the air well circulated for a long time."

Seven nodded seriously in agreement as she followed his lead and removed her helmet, to Chakotay's eyes the golden sheen of her hair made an eerie constant with the brooding darkness around her as she moved cautiously towards the nearest computer console. "I believe the station's system have been set at the lowest possible power output, that would explain why this area is almost completely inactive."

"Do you think you can access that console and find out what's going on here?" Chakotay asked.

Seven's lips pressed together before answering with an uncertain nod as she held her tricorder up to the console. "I should be able to, if there's enough power to activate it." She gave Callahan a glance over her shoulder, her blue eyes wavering uneasily for a moment as they settled on his. "Assist me." She murmured to him softly.

Chakotay thought for a moment that Callahan was going to be difficult and refuse, but the other man appeared to have swallowed whatever irrational pride Seven's mere presence seemed to bruise, and moved forward to join her at the console without a word. "It's no use." He muttered despondently to Chakotay after a couple of minutes had passed, "If there is enough power, it's not letting us into the files."

Seeing Chakotay's face harden in disappointment, Seven made a quick decision, sliding her left hand out of its protective glove. "With your permission Commander." She asked politely as her assimilation tubules slid smoothly out of the implants encasing the hand, trying to ignore Callahan's undisguised grimace of utter disgust as he watched.

"Go ahead." Chakotay told her with an encouraging smile, having seen the flinch that had passed momentarily over her fine features when under Callahan's inspection. He could remember a time when Seven would've unthinkingly intervened with her Borg intrusions, but she obviously trusted his judgement enough now to leave the decision about whether to use her unique skills in his hands. "Just be careful not to damage anything, we don't want to upset these people."

"I won't Commander." Seven promised, before adding in a remorseful tone, "The Borg value technology, it is the one thing they do not tend to eliminate." The concern which spread across Chakotay's handsome face at her words was in such sharp contrast with Callahan's doubt that she no longer wanted to look at either of them and turned to give her task the full attention it required, plunging the tubules into the console's control panel with one swift, practised movement.

Chakotay's concern for her became more concrete as he saw a frown crease her brows also as soon as her eyes had drifted shut, her mind itself connecting with the computer. It had always seemed to be a disturbingly easy process for her, but right now she was obviously finding it difficult. The seconds dragged out until she jerked her hand away with a violent gasp. Chakotay saw her disorientation clearly enough to have the foresight to grab hold of her just before her glassy eyes rolled abruptly back into her head. "Whoa!" He cried out, surprised by how light her metal filled body was as he took all her weight and held her up against his chest. "Seven?" he asked fretfully, gently tapping her pale, soft cheek with his free hand to try and rouse her, "What happened? Are you alright?"

"Uhh…" Seven mumbled as she struggled to return to herself, "I'm…" Heat surged through her as she belatedly realised that her head was lolling on Chakotay's shoulder and she snapped upright in his arms as if she'd been electrocuted. "I am undamaged Commander." She finally answered stiffly as she hastily stumbled back out of his hold.

Chakotay was, understandably, unconvinced. "Then what was that?" he demanded, "You almost fainted!"

"I apologise." Seven murmured, head bowed in embarrassment, "That computer base was so large, and I am so unused to connecting with technology now…" She swallowed.

"That's okay." Chakotay assured her hurriedly, giving her arm a squeeze, "Just tell us what you found."

Seven shook her head, "That is the problem Commander, there was nothing to be found. The computer mainframe has been completely deleted, that was part of the reason why my mind got "lost" so to speak."

"But it's impossible to delete an entire mainframe!" Callahan interjected, "There are always some records…"

"Not in this case Lieutenant. Whoever did this was very thorough; every computer file except the basic programming to keep the station marginally operating has been wholly eradicated from the system."

"Why would anyone do that?" Chakotay wondered, checking his own tricorder as he did so, "The scans are clearer here than they were from the Flyer; there are almost a hundred lifesigns still present on this station."

"Maybe there was some sort of computer virus and they had to strip the system to get rid of it?" Callahan suggested, "That would explain why the station is like this, if such a virus got loose on Voyager we'd be in real trouble."

Chakotay looked to Seven for confirmation of the theory and she duly nodded, "It's certainly possible Commander."

Chakotay felt his jaw clench once again. "Make sure that there's no way a computer virus, if there is one, could jump to the Flyer."

"It wouldn't, we haven't transferred any data from the station to the Flyer or vice versa, but we'd better be careful anyway." Callahan replied with more confidence than he felt.

Chakotay frowned worriedly at Seven as a new thought occurred to him but she spoke first as if she'd read his mind. "There is no need for concern on my part Chakotay. If such a virus had entered my implants they're programmed to deactivate immediately."

Chakotay grimaced, he knew "deactivate" was a Borg euphemism for death. "Do I want to ask why?"

Seven answered anyway, though her reply was far from pleasant. "It is a mechanism to protect the integrity of the Collective, if a drone is infected; they are deactivated before it can spread throughout the Collective."

"It didn't work with the virus Icheb carries though did it?" Callahan asked sharply, eyeing Seven as if she were a bomb about to explode at any moment.

Seven's expression darkened at the mention of Icheb's ordeal, she hadn't thought anyone outside the senior officers even knew about that. "There are exceptions to every rule." She muttered, glaring at him, "If I begin to display symptoms of an infection which poses a threat you have permission to deal with me as you see fit."

"It won't come to that." Chakotay cut in forcefully, frowning at both of them, "And if it ever does, _I'll_ be the one who decides what to do."

"Yes Commander." Seven and Callahan both told him quietly.

"Good." He said shortly, running a hand through his hair as he did so. "The only thing that's obvious is that the people here need help, whatever has happened to them. We need to talk to someone, which way to their command deck?"

"I don't think the command deck is functioning as that anymore Commander." Callahan said, his voice surprised as he checked his tricorder for the fourth time, "According to these scans there's no one there."

"There's no one on their equivalent of a Bridge?" Chakotay echoed incredulously, his dread growing.

"No, there is not." Seven confirmed bluntly, "The only nearby lifesigns I can pinpoint are about 500 metres down this corridor, perhaps 25 to 30 people."

Chakotay took a deep breath to brace himself. "I generally try to make it a rule not to walk into a room of strangers outnumbered in a situation like this, but it seems right now that we don't have a choice. Let's go."

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I'm sorry it took me so long to update, but I think I'm back into the rhythm of the story now. :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**A/n: Thanks to battlevalkyrie for encouraging me to take up this story again and also for updating 'Comfort Zones'. It's new chapter was a particularly uplifting read for me after a stressful week.**

"My tricorder is now giving me a more precise reading Commander." Seven reported, "There are 26 lifesigns 203 metres ahead of us."

"Can you tell us in which direction those 203 metres are exactly?" Callahan asked tersely, glaring distrustfully down the dank corridor; a junction that split it into a sharply pointed V with one route cutting to the left and the other to the right was barely visible even under the listless yellow beams the station's emergency lighting system sporadically spat out.

Seven's chest constricted under the weighty bulk of her space suit as she restrained a sigh. "I cannot be certain." She admitted in a low tone, automatically glancing apologetically at Chakotay rather than her questioner, who had halted mid-step at her words without bothering to hold in an irritated groan of his own.

Chakotay's dark eyes, no longer eerily enlarged by the trickery of the helmet's visor, narrowed slightly in Callahan's direction before regarding Seven levelly. "It would just be typical if this situation was simpler than it seems." He remarked with dry sarcasm before resolutely setting his shoulders, even broader than usual with the addition of his spacesuit's padding. "We'll go right first and if we don't find anything we can turn back." He reminded them, "Callahan, you take point."

"Yes sir." Callahan agreed quietly, suitably held in check. He couldn't stop a shiver running over him, contrary to the sweat clinging to him stubbornly under the suit, as he heard the echo of his own voice, somehow warped into a thin wail that funnelled through this tunnel of a corridor.

Seven moved forward behind him, her attention on the tricorder while Chakotay flanked her protectively, his Maquis guerrilla experiences vividly recalled in his cautious but purposeful catlike steps forward, eyes alert and phaser half-cocked. Not exactly approved First Contact procedure, but in this situation he doubted the aliens would be too offended. Seven, self-consciously aware of him just behind her, couldn't help but compare his wary but powerful presence with Callahan, who though just as physically imposing, had let wariness descend into palpable fear. His green eyes stalked every shadow, but Seven doubted he was taking in the details behind them, or would be able to pounce on anything that could reveal itself from the darkness. Suddenly, a guttural, sporadic sound reached her ears, at the very base register of even her enhanced hearing. After a second of straining, she quickly realised she wouldn't be able to pinpoint from where the noise emanated from or what it was. Despite this rational conclusion, she felt her muscles tighten; instinctively priming to run even as the stoical beeps of her tricorder revealed nothing more amiss than when it had last absorbed her attention. The continuous, droning sound scratched at her nerves just under the surface until she had to instead focus on the heavy rhythm of Chakotay's breathing behind her, disquieting for an entirely different reason but somehow that outstanding concern was reassuring in this stifled environment. "We're going the right way!" Callahan announced, his tone edgily triumphant, as if he'd found a certain escape route, his earlier doubts of Seven's navigating temporarily forgotten.

Feelings of vindication didn't cross Seven's mind however in her haste to beat down her fear and unease and she moved forward a little too sharply, stumbling awkwardly, her tricorder falling to the floor with a clang that made Callahan twirl around like a spinning top, the panic scarring his face quickly fading into mute scorn as his eyes focused on the flushed culprit. "Seven?" Chakotay queried quietly, his expression the antithesis of Callahan's, a picture of caring concern.

Seven felt the heat of shame intensify as she manoeuvred to pick up the tricorder. "I apologise for my lack of coordination Commander…" She mumbled uneasily.

Chakotay gently gripped her elbow to steady her, sighing a little as he felt her jolt as the touch. "Don't worry, I think 'lack of coordination 'excuse would be a first for you…" He assured her, a small smile flickering over his lips as he remembered his admiration for her ability to maintain an even keel, not only physically but emotionally, during this overlong away mission. It disturbed him to think she was lying, unconsciously or not, but he knew he'd seen a cloud of confusion obscuring her piercing gaze during those few seconds, reminiscent of those heart-stopping moments during her aborted attempt to hack the station's mainframe. "Your implants are still…bothering you aren't they?" he guessed pointedly, unable to hold the conclusion in.

Seven finally turned her head to look at him then, hearing the same wrenching tightness in his throat she previously thought she'd imagined in those dazed few seconds as reality had slowly flowed back into her emptied mind, his hand on her face… "My implants are undamaged." She told him firmly, giving in a little when his eyes continued to search her face, "However, I am experiencing some lingering disorientation as a result of my ineffective connection with the station's systems." She admitted softly, not particularly wishing for Callahan to find her weaknesses, no matter how much he seemed to relish seeking them out. "It wasn't unanticipated, given these strange circumstances." She added hurriedly as she felt his fingers curl tighter around her elbow. "Computers are rarely so…empty."

"You and Callahan speculated it could be a virus, right?" Chakotay reminded her, carefully releasing her arm as they resumed walking to where Callahan stood, impatient and vulnerable, by a door fifty metres ahead or so. "That could certainly explain the abandonment of a station in apparent working order."

Seven nodded, although her pinched expression as she did so foretold her reservations to him even before she spoke. "Yes, but it would not explain why some residents are still here." She took a deep breath, a rare concession to apprehension in such a controlled woman. "I doubt, from what I experienced, that this situation is accidental."

"Are you saying someone purposefully wiped the mainframe?" Chakotay asked with a sharp intake of breath of his own, unable to keep a hint of incredulity from his voice. "Why would anyone do that? Even if this place was the subject of an invasion or a siege, what would either side gain from basically crippling the infrastructure? It can't be much of a prize just floating dead in space like this."

"The scenario is tactically dubious." Seven conceded, "But I am quite certain the mainframe was deleted file by file, the loss is too methodical. Everything vital to keep the station stable in the nebula and supporting life is intact, but everything remotely informative is gone. The odds of a virus being so…fortuitous are infinitesimal."

"I'll take your word for it." Chakotay replied, his mind already notching up their threat level before she'd finished speaking. "If we don't get some satisfying answers from the remaining 'residents' soon, we're leaving, helpful technology or not."

He didn't miss the relief that flooded Seven's face before her professionalism reined it in. "Understood." She agreed simply.

Callahan turned away from the door he stood in front of as his crewmates' voices drew closer. "All 26 lifesigns in this section of the station are definitely in this room, but I can't get the door open more than a crack." He made a frustrated gesture towards what had obviously once been the door's entry panel. The wall around it had been partially gouged out, as if someone had tried to tear it out, but it was now flickering feebly with life with the support of being linked to Callahan's tricorder.

Seven stared at the door, at the huge slabs of unmoving metal that made up the door to answers, only parting in a teasing gap just as Callahan had said. Decisively, she yanked the glove off her left hand once again, the assimilation tubules surging determinedly out of the cybernetic webbing. Chakotay's hand stubbornly lacing around hers despite the threat of the tubules shocked her arm to a halt just as she had begun to lift it to dissect the panel. "No." He ordered unequivocally without taking the risk of releasing her.

"Commander?" Seven asked shakily, feeling confused as she read the hardness in his eyes. Surely he realised her Borg-given abilities were their only way in.

"I wouldn't ask anyone to risk their lives for the sake of opening a door so you're certainly not doing it Seven." He told her in a tone which broached no argument as his eyes distractedly studied the door. "We'll need to pull it open ourselves." He concluded tiredly.

"I didn't exactly join Starfleet for the manual labour opportunities Commander." Callahan quipped as he gamely grasped the door with both hands.

Chakotay shrugged in reply, reluctantly letting Seven join him as he moved to grip the other side of the door. "Who does? Now pull on my mark. 1…2…3!"

It took more than more try, by the time they'd managed to drag the door open by a person's width, all three felt their arms burning with the strain, their shoulders irritated as the ball tried to settle back into the socket of the joint. "We will need to remove our suits to be able to fit." Seven said, comparing their respective frames with the size of the new gap within a matter of seconds.

"Right…" Chakotay agreed uneasily, reluctant to forsake their only form of scant protection from whatever had ravaged this station. Seven and Callahan were already ahead of him though, stripping off the dense layers before he could say more.

Seven, first out of her suit and the slightest of the three of them physique wise, slipped sideways through the door with relative ease. Soon, the grunts of the two men echoed through her ears as they had a bit more of struggle to follow her, but her senses truly focused on something else. The clinging scent of decay that had surrounded her since the transporter had brought them here had been overwhelmed by a putrid assault. Automatically, with her life experience, she mentally described it as death.

**A/n: PLEASE REVIEW! :D I know it's shorter than usual for this story, but I'm just glad my muse for it came back after all this time! Thank you for sticking with it. :)**


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